Page 113 of Queen of Legends and Lies
Focusing on our bond, I project the fear and anger boiling inside me.Fight them! Don’t let them control you!
My pleas are futile. The drachen’s corruption runs too deep. My heart fractures as these majestic creatures—my friends—strain against their bonds, more desperate to break free from the ice than the poison in their minds.
I need to maintain focus. Find a way to subdue them without causing injury. Or hurting Eldor.
Sterling remains locked in the magical struggle to restrain the dragons, his face straining with concentration as he replenishes the melting ice shackles.
He’s one man against four fire-breathing animals.
Water slashes past my ear as Serle flings a strong but poorly aimed attack at Sterling. “This is all your fault. You weak, pathetic fool. Even when you were being controlled, you couldn’t even succeed in kidnapping Lark for Xenon!”
Sterling grits his teeth, arms shaking as he infuses more power into the icy shackles. Beads of sweat slide down his rich bronze skin. “That’s not the insult you seem to think it is. You’re seriously calling me names because I didn’t betray the woman I love?”
My chest swells with affection and pride even as my stomach twists in fear for him. Normally, he’d have no trouble freezing a few dragons. But these aren’t just any dragons. They’re corrupted.
I send up a prayer to Rivlan, the God of Water, for Sterling’s safety.
All I can do while the beasts are thrashing about so closely is wait and watch for an opportunity.
Serle snarls in frustration and whirls toward Moise. “Drink!”
The vicar fumbles a vial from his robes with trembling hands. As he unstoppers it, my eyes widen in horrified recognition. The thick black liquid…
“No!” Fire sizzles from my fingertips, but my desperate blaze strikes too late.
The eyril already streams down Moise’s throat. Tanwen, his mount, throws his body to the side in an attempt to free himself.
Just what we need…a super-powered wind user battling us. That also explains the sudden strength of Serle’s water magic. They’re willing to risk their own free will to gain the enhanced magical power that eyril bestows. If a drachen uses a fear attack against them, they’ll become corrupted puppets for Xenon to use.
As Dame thrashes beneath her, Celeste clings to the dragon’s neck, focused on remaining mounted.
Based on the fact that she’s not using air magic, I’m guessing she hasn’t consumed eyril yet.
Small mercies.
Desperation for freedom pulses through me, followed by a sense of superiority.
The suffocating emotions of the corrupted dragons nearly send me running. In the commotion, I’d forgotten to dampen and block out their feelings.
After I take a few seconds to do that, all four dragons open their jaws, orange light building in their throats. My heart seizes. I know what they’re planning.
I throw my hands up, ready to divert their assault. “They’re going to breathe fire!”
Jets of flame erupt…but not at us.
The dragons direct the blasts at their own legs, at the ice binding them. Hissing fills the air as the shackles melt into water.
I throw my power outward.
Using sheer will, I attempt to deflect the dragonfire.
It’s no use.
The relentless flames destroy the ice faster than Sterling can restore it. Keeping the blaze away from him is the only thing I can do.
Dread skitters down my spine like a thousand spiders.
I can’t stop this.
